The Lady of Situations
by Ria
Summary: Sometimes, Queens can be more similar than you'd think. [Femmeslash: Jadis x Susan]


**Title:** The Lady of Situations  
**Author:** Ria  
**Disclaimer:** The Chronicles of Narnia, both books and the film, are not mine. They are belonged to the Estate of C.S. Lewis and Walt Disney Productions, and whoever else. I make no profit from this; I merely do it for my own enjoyment and hopefully the enjoyment of others, as well. _The Waste Land_ was written by T.S. Eliot, and also isn't mine.  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters/Pairing:** Jadis, Susan, Jadis/Susan  
**Spoilers:** "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" (book and film) and "The Last Battle".  
**Warnings:** darkness, femmeslash  
**Words:** 2,000  
**Summary:** Sometimes, Queens can be more similar than you'd think.  
**Author's Notes:** written for the "Contrelamontre" _light/dark_ challenge in 60 minutes. Uh, I hope you enjoy. The title is taken from T.S. Eliot's _The Waste Land_.

**The Lady of Situations**

Jadis was light, pale, and as white as snow. The moment anyone's gaze fell upon her, they immediately knew she was not like them. No Daughter of Eve could compare to her, with her tall stature, icy complexion, cold eyes and regal stance. She viewed herself as a Queen, of course, a mighty Queen dependant on no King, capable of ruling herself.

She would bow down to no one, not even Aslan, though a few whispered that she feared him, of course, because few would openly defy the Great Lion, even if he hadn't appeared in so very long.

No one ever saw those foolish speakers again.

But even the most loyal can grow complacent when no God appears before them in so very long, and there were a few who agreed to the Witch's rule when she came from the Wild Lands to the North. Whispers of her had drifted through Narnia for years, of a lady young and beautiful forever with the powers of Magic at her fingertips.

When she came to Narnia, many were captivated by her icy beauty and royal bearing. They murmured amongst themselves that perhaps being ruled by her wouldn't be so bad.

Jadis swept into Narnia and bought Winter in her wake.

* * *

Susan is dark, pale, raven-tressed with creamy smooth skin. When gazes fall on her, many a breath is stolen. Her beauty is legendary, this Queen of Narnia, a lady famed for captivating the eyes of any man who sees her. She is kind, gentle, a pleasure to be with. Her siblings are as famed as she, and their love for each other is absolute. 

They are the ones of prophecy, the two Sons of Adam and the two Daughters of Eve destined to sit on the thrones of Cair Paravel. She is Susan the Gentle, Chosen of Aslan, Mistress of Cair Paravel. Under her benevolent rule, Cair Paravel reaches its highest glory.

Men come from countries far to the east for her hand, all to no avail, turned aside by a beautiful smile and a gentle rejection. Her beauty spreads even further, until in other countries the fashions turn to pale face powder, dark hair dye and growing one's hair almost to the ground, as other ladies attempt to recreate her beauty in the hopes of achieving her fame.

Narnia loves its four monarchs, its two brave Kings and two beautiful Queens. The High King is beloved by all, as is right, and the Just has been forgiven by all, and all smile for the Valiant, and all bow to the beauty of the Gentle.

Susan is a Queen of Narnia, but she will never be a King. Her archery skills are legendary, but she is never expected to go into battle. Her brothers will lead Narnia's armies, and she will lead its diplomats, charming foreigners into alliances with her wondrous country and magnificent brother.

When the four Pevensies sweep into power, Susan finds that nothing has really changed for her.

* * *

Jadis brought death to Narnia in numbers far greater than in previous generations. She knew of the prophecy – whispers of Narnia reached the North easily – and was determined that her reign should not end. She would live forever – why shorten her glory for four insignificant children? 

And so the people of Adam and Eve began to die, all for the sake of a prophecy that many began to believe was merely myth. Those who soon realised her intentions ran, fleeing with their families and friends to the safety of their kin in Archenland and to the comparative safety of Calormen.

Jadis would allow no one to take power from her, whether from this world or another.

Soon, no people of Adam and Eve remained in Narnia, and their memory faded into legend and half-thought as the years went by and the land grew colder. Only the Talking Beasts remained as her subjects as she believed them to be simple to control. All trade was closed off to her, but with her Magic why did she need trade or alliances? Soon, soon, Archenland and Calomen would fall to her, regardless.

Jadis brought death to Narnia, and she bought unwelcome change, and the memory of the Lion grew weaker.

* * *

The Pevensies bring life to Narnia, restoring prosperity and wealth that hasn't been seen for several generations. The prophecy is whispered excitedly by many only now beginning to believe that it has come to pass and that Narnia is entering upon its Golden Age. The hundred years of Winter now seem insignificant, a bad dream, something to think back on but never to remember in fear. 

The children are startled to learn that people like them once lived in Narnia, but were either killed or banished by Jadis, but they welcome those beginning to return with warm smiles and open embraces. They will never tell anyone, but it will make their first few years in power easier to also have familiar people around them as well as the Talking Beasts. In some ways, they are still children from another world.

Narnia begins to open up to trade and alliances again, once enough time has passed that it is stable and calm, growing back to its former glory. Foreigners begin to arrive in the court of the High King Peter, and the two young Kings learn of the very serious matter of challenges to test their famed skills.

Once, a young female diplomat teasingly asks the Queen Susan for a chance to test her own archery against the lady's legendary skill, but the High King forbids it, cheerfully saying that his sister's talents are so great that they need not be tested.

If anyone sees the flame of rage flicker briefly in the Gentle's eyes, they quickly ignore it, imagining that they never saw it at all.

The Pevensies bring life to Narnia, and the Lion remains strong and loved.

* * *

Jadis' skills in battle were legendary; none, not even the mightiest centaur, dared to directly oppose her until Peter lead them into battle. None could blame them, before the Pevensies came to Narnia, for the Witch made a fearsome sight in her flashing chain mail, battle helmet and glinting, cold swords. 

People could only stare, while some of the outer battle lulled, as Peter and the Witch parried, spinning in the furious dance of combat, their mail and swords glinting as they eyed each other for weakness and brief openings in the other's defence.

Jadis is a terrifying, wonderful sight: a Queen ruling on her own, dependant on no other, second only by Aslan and even then at a distance until recently, a woman with her own power.

In some ways, it was a disappointment to many when she fell.

* * *

Susan's skill with the arrow is legendary; many know it was her personal gift and a dormant skill that she worked long and hard to perfect. It is the tradition of many a young courtier to come to her for archery advice, but they know that only those closest to her are allowed an actual challenge. The High King forbids it, some murmur due to Aslan's orders. 

It is a badly kept secret, however, that the High King sometimes bows down to his sister's demands for a personal challenge with him.

She is a glittering sight, their oldest Queen, with flowing dresses, shining hair, and calm eyes. Her countenance and posture are impeccable; Cair Paravel blooms under her care. She is similar to her siblings; in other ways not like them at all; in very few ways she is greater than all of them.

There is an aura of magnificence to her, somewhat like her brother's, that clings to her even when she is in the midst of diplomacy or entertaining her subjects with yet another party. It is not a royal aura, not a regal bearing, but the stirring of something deeper, something that she keeps tightly leashed and possibly only her siblings and other close to her have seen and experienced.

In some ways, it is a disappointment to many that they will never see her in battle, leading the armies with her brothers as this magnificence spills from her in an awe-inspiring battle fury.

* * *

As the Lion's roar spilled over the plains of Beruna and more soldiers on the boy's side spilled onto the battlefield, Jadis paused for only the briefest moment, her eyes widening only a fraction. 

"Impossible," she whispered.

* * *

They are no longer in a wardrobe, that is for certain, but this simply cannot be real. Other worlds do not exist behind fur coats, wardrobes do not lead to places of snow and sky and ice. Worlds are not discovered in an ordinary game of Hide and Seek. 

Susan looks around as snow stings her cheeks in icy kisses, and whispers, "Impossible."

* * *

The Witch was dead and Narnia celebrated. Spring was here; Winter was over. The Pevensies were now on the thrones of Cair Paravel; the Witch was dead. 

The Witch was dead… she was not gone.

Aslan knew this, of course, when he killed her. He knew her spirit would linger because of the apple she had eaten so long ago. Immortality does not end in the husk's death – the Witch would remain until the end of the world.

All he could do was hope that Narnia would remain strong.

She remained in the air, the water, in the flames, in the earth. When winter returned every year, she rejoiced, and sometimes the cold was more terrible than usual. She went to ground when spring and summer rolled on, stirring when the sharp breezes of autumn hissed through the air.

When the water's song was higher than usual, she was there. When the ground unexpectedly trembled, she was there. When the sun wasn't as warm as it should have been, she was there.

Her voice carried through the air, whispering to those who did not always believe and were not always good. When that happened some almost believed that they could hear her laugh again, and they shivered.

In the calm eyes of Queen Susan the Gentle, some were sometimes certain that they could see something cold lingering in their depths.

* * *

Her family is dead, and she is alone. 

Susan stands in the graveyard, her head bowed, as the wind whips her hair around her face. She will not say long; staring at all of the graves, holding people gone long before their time, even Aunt Polly and the Professor, makes her queasy. Sometimes, it makes her cry and she is unable to stop until night has fallen and the moon has risen.

Foolish people, believing in the silly little games they played as children! Peter and Edmund, gallivanting off on a wild goose chase for Magic Rings – oh, she had thought so much more of Peter!

If a Lion's roar echoes through her dreams, Susan never remembers it when she wakes.

Her family is dead, and she is alone.

And if sometimes Susan swears that she can hear a purring voice in her head, or if the wind holds a cool voice that whispers things to her that aren't real, well, that's her imagination too. And if she can remember dreams where a cool body lies over hers and lips that burn like frost close over hers, and if she wakes shuddering and moaning to an icy touch between her legs, well, clearly she should be more careful of the company that she keeps.

The wind is strong and cold as it races through the graveyard, but Susan throws her arms open wide, embracing it, her hair streaming around her as she arches into an icy caress that isn't real.

Later, she will cry tears that are as cold as ice.

Her family is dead, and she is alone.

But she is never alone.

FINIS


End file.
